The Ring Master's Tome
by chemical violets
Summary: The circus is black and white. There are no signs of color besides the blood red dripping from the members. With Gray's Devil Slayer magic came a demon from the pits of Hell itself and with it, his carnival. Gray will now lead the Circus of Souls with blood painting his skin from his perfectly planned kills. He is the Ring Master, and the world is his circus. CH 416 SPOILERS.


**THE RING MASTER'S TOME**

 **PROLOGUE**

Gray was running. He was running through darkness with no sense of direction or clue as to where his fast footsteps were taking him. Where even _was_ he? The cold was biting, piercing his skin like a frozen knife. Why could he even feel the cold? Ice Mages _don't_ feel cold.

Tossing a glance over his shoulder, he stopped. Was it safe? The glowing red light had stopped following him. It had disappeared somewhere in the dark, cold forest. He fell to his knees, panting as a panicked shiver ran up his spine. He was hopelessly, dreadfully lost. Thick clouds were gathering over the stars dotting the sky like silver freckles. A jagged crack of lighting forked across the sky, moving cloud to cloud with a blue color exactly like that of Iced Shell's.

The first drop of rain fell on his hand, like it was perfectly planned to slip down the back of his hand onto the ground. It was thick, hot, and worst of all: blood red. It stained his skin as it slipped onto the soil, leaving a faint red trail down a paper white appendage. When it touched the first blade of grass, the "rain" fell full force, its metallic scent penetrating Gray's senses, dribbling into his mouth and smothering him as it ran down the course of his throat. It pooled in his eyes, making seeing nearly impossible. Gray swiped at his eyes, hair hanging in his face as it got weighted down with blood. He began running again, slipping on the slick ground as he tried desperately to outrun the rain.

His foot snagged a tree root, sending him sprawling on the ground, a mouthful of dirt smacking into his face.

"You should know better than to run."

Gray's head snapped up, eyes widening at the sight before him. It was him—only it wasn't. He was clad in a black suit with a long waistcoat. It was adorned with a priest-like collar—black with a white rectangle over the Adams' apple. A tied black ribbon hung from the color, long and draping over the gray shirt and the white cuffs of the shirt folded over the jacket. His hair stood off his face like it did in his half-demon form, the demonic mark scratched over his glowing, red left eye. His lips were twisted into an irrational smile, eyes wide and nearly twitching with a broken tinge of pure, wide insanity. Blood painted his hands, smears of the crimson liquid dragged down his shirt in smudging berated handprints, as though someone had been fighting against him.

"Who are you?" Gray forced out with as much force and confidence as he could possibly muster.

"I'm you," Not-Gray replied, voice laced with excitement and crazed giggles.

"No you're not. I'm not you."

"Oh but you could be." His counterpart wasn't the least bit fazed by Gray's defiance, his voice a sing-song manner of speech filled with mocking and insanity. "And you will be. Eventually."

Before he had time to ask what that meant, hands began reaching from the dirt, pulling out the bloodied bodies of his friends.

Lucy was soaked in blood, her head hanging on a limp neck, her spinal cord piercing the skin.

Natsu's guts hung from his stomach, leg bent harshly sideways. He held a dead Happy by the scruff in his tight, cold grasp.

Erza's chest was ripped open, heart visible as it shuddered with small beats, the final signs of resistance until death.

They just kept popping up. Cana, Lyon, Loke, Mirajane, Wendy, Master, Romeo. _All_ of them. They're voices were distorted, grating harshly against his ears like nails on a chalkboard as they spoke. The voices were sewn together in a crooked manner—in complete unison despite the cracks and gurgling sounds that occasionally broke the reverie.

 _How could you do this to us, Gray? How could you let us die? How could you kill us?_

Over and over and over until he had curled in on himself, eyes twisted shut and hands forced over his ears. From the crowd staggered old people from his past—his dad, his mom, Ur, Ultear, all looking at him with hatred and malice that he could feel even after he re-shut his eyes.

 _You killed us Gray. You killed us without mercy. Killers need to be_ punished _, Gray._

"Ah, they're right," Not-Gray laughed. It was a truly horrifying sound—like something out of a horror movie as it echoed through the still air, carrying itself over the mutters and generally disgusting sounds coming from his friends' corpses. "You know, I really should kill you. Like we killed them, but I'll make a deal with you."

"A-a deal?"

"Accept me, Gray. If you accept me they won't die. We can cleanse this world of sin."

"Cleanse the world?"

"Kill the demons. Kill the thieves with the scratching of a pencil. Make sure nobody suffers the way you did." Not-Gray parted the crowd of corpses, standing over Gray tall and proud. The bodies stood like a mangled circus behind an insane ringmaster. It was a circus with a black and white tent and interior—no signs of gold in sight and the only crimson being blood. Like the circus was set in a black and white movie.

"With the scratching of a pencil?" Gray repeated. "How is that even possible? I can't exactly kill a demon like Deliora by scratching it with a pencil." Not-Gray laughed, head tossed back in exhilaration. He reached into the waist-coat, pulling out a dark black journal with golden symbols adorning it, spelling out words in some foreign language Gray didn't recognize. **Του πλοιάρχου δαχτυλίδι Τομέ**

"What does it say?"

"The Ring Master's Tome, scribed in the Greek language. You could run this circus, Raven. The forces of life and death themselves will be your acts. Your friends won't be harmed unless you want them to be. Each soul taken by writing in this book will be under your control—like performers led by a Ring Master."

"But how does writing in this… book kill? I don't understand."

"You write those you want to kill in the book and leave the rest to me, Raven. That's the magic that comes with being a demon—or half demon in your case. Your brothers, your father Satan himself will kill the ones you despise for you. Demons like Deliora will fall to your will. Become the Ring Master, Raven. Lead the circus and the world will be cleansed in your name."

Gray held eye contact with his counterpart, eyes wide as they flickered to the half demon then back to his friends. The Underworld's Carnival.

"Think of everyone who has been harmed by the hands of evil. Mika, Ur, Ultear, Silver. You blame yourself. You're the carnival's puppet right now, but you can take over. You can protect those you care about by letting those you despise join your circus. You can train them to be yours, Raven." Not-Gray blew a strand of hair from his eye as it fell from its upright position. "Just let the blood stain your hands. You'll find the blood is less—er… Smothering when you accept it."

He held out the book, the golden letters glittered in the dim moonlight. It was a welcoming, amber glow that caught his eye, captured his attention and taunted him with an almost inaudible chant, calling his name in its grinding voice. It would be a horrific tune to anyone who heard it, but to Gray it seems almost melodic. It was like a song he couldn't get out of his head. His fingers itched to tap out the tune, screamed to be noticed.

He reached out his hand, hand still stained with blood. His fingers curled around the book's spine as he pulled himself off the ground.

"Okay." Not-Gray smiled.

"Call me Kobal, Raven—the entertainment director of Hell itself." Kobal grinned, eyes filled with happiness as he released the book into Gray's grasp. Almost immediately the half-demon disappeared and Gray found himself free of blood. He held the book in his hand, the suit Kobal had worn adorning his own being, but now blood free.

He looked up, the dismembered bodies of his friends and other demons standing still, watching him expectantly. They smiled, the words _Master_ rolling off their bloodied lips.

"Welcome to the Circus of Souls, Raven."

 **A/N** **Not sure how long it'll be till an update but I couldn't wait to post this. For now, just consider it a one-shot until Chapter 1 is posted.**

 **-Chemical Violets**


End file.
